


I'll Take Mine Black

by zams



Series: Ice Cream Shop AU [2]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), My Chemical Romance, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Crossover, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-04
Updated: 2011-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:19:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zams/pseuds/zams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/246742">Vanilla</a>.</p><p>
  <em>Frank seems to think the guy in the corner is giving him death glares. Tommy's inclined to agree, and the guy kinda looks like a hit man, albeit a blond, sexy hit man in a red leather jacket.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Take Mine Black

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to 'thebigmachines' on LJ for beta'ing and to 'lizibabes' on LJ for listening to me babble incessantly about this fic.

\---

Tuesdays are slow days. This particular Tuesday, it's well into the afternoon and there's only been about twenty customers. And that's including Gerard coming in three times to get his coffee refilled (and to flirt with Frank).

Tommy usually spends his Tuesdays cleaning incessantly (even though everything's already clean) and tuning out most of Frank's babble because these days it's mostly poorly disguised gushing about Gerard. Tommy likes Gerard, but he doesn't really need to know about all the songs he's written for Frank or the paintings he's given him or how adorable Frank thinks he is when Gerard has paint and charcoal all over his face, hands, clothes, and hair.

There's only so much of that Tommy can take.

"Tommy!" Frank hisses under his breath.

Technically, Frank's running the register, but really he's just standing there texting. Actually, if Tommy thinks about it, he's probably sexting Gerard, and Tommy hates himself a little for the image that thought puts in his brain. It's really Frank's fault, though, and Tommy ignores him in retaliation; he has a freezer to clean, anyway.

" _Tommy_!"

He sighs almost inaudibly, taking a second to pity himself, and then turns his head to look at Frank. Frank looks jittery and restless, like he's about to jump out of his skin, and it's weird enough to catch Tommy's interest. "What's wrong with you?"

"I think that guy's giving me death glares!"

"What guy? Death glares? Just how much coffee had you had today? You're even worse than Gerard, and that's saying something, and it's not good," Tommy says, writing this off as another one of Frank's exaggerations without thinking about it. He looks around the shop, ignoring Frank's panicked squeak, because do they even have a customer?

"I don't see- oh." Tommy pauses. "Yeah, he's totally giving you a death glare." The guy Frank's talking about came in about half an hour ago and ordered a large black coffee, and he's been so quiet, Tommy thought he had left.

After a second of blatantly staring at the dude–hey, he’s not glaring at Tommy, after all-, Tommy turns back to Frank and raises an eyebrow at him. "He kinda looks like a hit man."

It's true. He's got longish blond hair that's slicked back over his head with a pair of over-sized sunglasses perched on top. His face is blank, like it's carved out of stone, and his eyes are flat. For all the emotion he's showing, he could be thinking about cute puppies frolicking in a park or dismembering Frank's body. And for how lanky he looks, Tommy'd bet he could rough someone (like Frank) up without breaking a sweat. The red leather jacket is sexy, though.

"You do anything lately to piss someone off enough to want to kill you?"

"No!" Frank denies immediately, his voice loud enough to carry the twenty feet to the man.

Tommy wants to smack him. Way to be obvious.

Frank coughs. "I mean, I don't think so," he says more quietly, like being quiet is going to help anything now.

"You don't know?" Tommy huffs disgustedly. He glances back over at the man out of the corner of his eye and crosses his arms over his chest. "Well," he says, "you better start praying or something because he's walking over here right now. I'll be sure to cry at your funeral."

Frank flails and jumps behind Tommy, peeking over Tommy's shoulder. Tommy rolls his eyes; Frank's really bad at subtlety. It's not like Tommy's much bigger or taller than Frank, anyway, so what's the point of using him as a shield? Unless Frank just wants the dude to kill Tommy first, the asshole.

Plastering a smile on his face, Tommy cheerfully says, "Can I help you?" when the guy is standing in front of the counter, still all quiet and intense and disconcerting and totally creepy.

The staring contest is just getting heated when the dude raises an arm and points directly at Frank, who squeaks again. "Are you Frank?" he asks, absolutely monotone.

His voice is a little higher and softer than Tommy imagined, but he’s still a scary fucker.

Frank's hands dig into his shoulders (Tommy wonders if he'll have bruises - those'll be fun to explain to Adam) and he presses close. "Um, yes?”

Tommy uses these last moments to preemptively mourn. He really will miss Frank when this guy kills him. It's sad that it has to end like this.

Then the dude suddenly smiles, and Tommy's even more freaked the fuck out by that than the 'no emotion' thing he had going because that smile is huge and happy and just seems weird and out of place on his face.

"I'm Mikey Way," he says pleasantly. "I hear you're fucking my brother. Nice to meet you."

For a moment, there isn't a sound in the shop, just absolute silence. And then Tommy can't help it; he starts laughing.

***

Tommy laughs for a full five minutes, half-bent over, eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking out, stomach hurting before he finally gets control and manages to stop laughing.

When he does, Frank's let go of him and is standing away from him, glaring with his mouth set in a firm line. He's trying to look pissed, but he's actually pouting more than anything.

The dude – Mikey, apparently – is still in front of the counter, and while he's gone back to the mostly emotionless look, Tommy can see some amusement hiding behind his eyes.

"You about fuckin' done, asshole?" Frank spits out. "I'm so glad this is so fun for you. I see how you really feel about me. Didn't even care I was gonna die. Nope. You were probably gonna hand me right over to him and say, here! Take him!"

"Oh, give me a fucking break," Tommy says. "I would have at least gotten some money from him before I handed you over. You owe me fifty bucks from last Saturday."

"Fifty bucks?!" Frank shrieks. "That's all I'm fucking worth to you? Fifty fucking dollars?! Well, fuck you, you fucking asshole.”

By now, Frank's on a roll, pacing and flailing his arms all over the place, and Tommy just wants to laugh again. Tommy wonders again if Frank's short fuse is directly related to his (lack of) height. It probably is. Tommy thinks it's one of the endearing things about Frank, though. Not that he'll ever tell him.

There's a discreet cough and Tommy remembers that, hey, they're not alone. He looks over at Mikey and shrugs because this is a normal occurrence. If he really is Gerard’s brother, he might as well get used to Frank. "So, you're Gerard's brother?" he asks casually, like the past ten minutes of normal Frank-Tommy snark never happened, grinning.

There's no mistaking the amusement now. "Yeah," Mikey says. "Gerard wouldn't tell me who he was dating. Seemed to think I'd scare the guy or something." Mikey flashes a brief smirk at Tommy, and yeah, Tommy definitely likes this Mikey guy. "But why would I do that? So, I used my ninja skills to find out who the guy was."

Yeah, he’s a fucking ninja all right.

Tommy clicks his tongue. "And now don't you just wish you would have left well-enough alone?" he asks, shaking his head and trying to keep the laughter in. Teasing Frank is Tommy’s way of showing his love, really.

Frank smacks him on the back of his head, hard.

"Ow! Fuck, Frank!" Tommy says, glaring and rubbing at the sore spot. "That fuckin' hurt, man."

Frank sticks his tongue out at him. "You deserved it because you're a dick," he says, not sounding sorry at all and glaring too.

That’s harsh and Tommy pouts a little bit. Frank’s so mean to him.

Mikey chuckles and Frank’s head whips around to him. "So you're Mikey, huh," he says flatly. "Gerard warned me about you."

"Did he?" Mikey actually seems vaguely surprised. "I'm flattered."

Frank gives him an unimpressed look. "Why are you here?"

"Is it so wrong that I want to meet my brother's boyfriend?" Mikey asks, way too innocently in Tommy's opinion. "I mean, you're all he talks about, and I was curious."

Yeah, something is definitely up. No one’s _that_ innocent.

Frank, of course, is totally oblivious. "I am?" he asks, quickly switching moods and grinning dreamily as he always does when he thinks about Gerard. Or someone talks about Gerard. Or when Frank drinks coffee and he’s reminded of Gerard. Or every minute of every day that ends in ‘y.’

God. Tommy should have warned Mikey not to get Frank started.

"You are,” Mikey confirms.

Tommy waits for the kicker. This should be good.

“And now that I’ve met you…” Mikey says. “Sure, you're hot, but you're awfully short."

Tommy stares at Mikey with wide, awed eyes. Holy shit, did he really just go there? He’s impressed. Tommy thinks he's got a little crush. Hopefully Adam won't mind.

For a second, Frank looks nonplussed, but then his eyes get so narrow they're only slits, barely open, and Tommy wonders if Frank's going to lose his shit. Only Tommy and Gerard are allowed to tease him about his height.

Mikey seems unconcerned by Frank’s obvious displeasure and mounting rage, and he smirks faintly, like he’s challenging Frank to do or say something. Any other time, Tommy'd bet his money on Mikey, even though he just met him, but Frank is a fierce little shit when he's pissed off.

It’s like watching a tennis match. Ball’s in Frank’s court right now, and when his hands close into tight fists, Tommy wonders if he should duck for cover, but then a second passes, and another, and another, and Frank is motionless until, finally, he exhales sharply.

“Fuck. You,” he says, and Tommy’s impressed by the anger that Frank manages to convey in those two simple words. Tommy’ll pat him on the back later.

Tommy shifts his attention to Mikey to see how he reacts to that, and he’s still looking at Frank, seemingly assessing him, not moving, not looking upset or angry or really anything.

“Okay,” Mikey finally says, perfectly calm. “You want to come to dinner at my apartment tonight? With Gerard.”

Frank’s lips purse, and Tommy hopes Frank’s not going to be a fucking idiot right now and ignore that fucking _obvious_ olive branch of acceptance from his boyfriend's brother, and just when Tommy’s ready to beat some sense into Frank and answer for him, he says, “Fine.”

That ridiculously pissy tone calls for a lot of teasing later.

“Seven?"

“Perfect,” Mikey says and he smiles.

Tommy just sighs. Thank fucking god. He really didn't want to clean up blood today.

***

Ten minutes later, Tommy and Frank are scooping out chocolate ice cream for the three of them when the door bursts open and Gerard bursts in like an enraged, wild bear looking for something to kill.

Well, more like an enraged terrier or something because Gerard is not fucking intimidating at all.

Just then, Mikey comes out of the bathroom, and when Gerard's eyes land on him, they narrow and Tommy’s taken aback - he had no idea Gerard could look that scary. He’s half expecting Gerard to snarl and bodily attack Mikey, he looks that pissed. Damn.

Tommy spares a thought that perhaps he's underestimated Gerard all this time. He thinks about that for a brief second and then dismisses it. Nah, Gerard’s a puppy. Just a small one who has to make up for being cute and tiny by having an extra fierce bark. He chuckles to himself quietly.

"Gee!" Mikey says like it’s perfectly normal for him to be in the shop and that he doesn’t know Gerard’s pissed-the-fuck-off. "I was just talking about you."

"Cut the crap, Mikey!" Gerard snaps, stomping over to him. It doesn’t seem like he’s noticed Frank and Tommy behind the counter. "Where's Frank? What did you do to him? Did you hurt him? Did you scare him? If he breaks up with me because of you, I swear I will-"

"Gerard!" Frank pipes up, and he rushes over to him, wrapping his arms around Gerard.

“Oh, my god!” Gerard says, running his hands all over Frank. “Are you okay? What did he do? You can tell me.”

Tommy's confused - Gerard seems strangely frantic considering Mikey’s his brother. Did he really think Mikey would do something to Frank? He glances at Mikey, who looks a little sad, but also understanding. He wonders what the story behind that look is.

“I’m fine, Gee,” Frank says. “Mikey didn’t do anything. Well, not really.”

That doesn’t make Gerard look any less frantic. “Frankie, tell me.”

“He just made me think he was gonna kill me, but it’s fine!” Frank says quickly when Gerard’s eyes widen.

 _Smooth, Frank_ , Tommy thinks, rolling his eyes. _Real smooth_.

Gerard turns incredulous eyes on Mikey. “What the fuck, Mikey?!”

Mikey holds his hands up in front of him, palms facing out. “All I did was sit in here and drink my coffee.” There’s a pause. “And maybe stare at Frank a little bit. That’s all.”

Tommy snorts. He needs some popcorn or something.

Frank takes Gerard’s face in his hands and turns his head. “Gee,” he says softly, “What’s wrong? It’s fine, really. Sure, your brother’s scary, but come on. He’s not _that_ scary. I’m tough.”

Tommy can tell Frank’s trying to lighten things up, but Gerard fidgets, glancing at Mikey. They do that freaky non-verbal communication thing that Tommy thought only twins could do, and then Gerard looks back at Frank, who’s staring at him and waiting for an explanation.

“Mikey’s… Well, he’s Mikey,” he says, shrugging helplessly.

“Thanks, Gee,” Mikey deadpans.

“And I didn’t want to scare you off,” Gerard says, voice low. “Mikey’s important to me. Really important. We’re a package deal, and I didn’t want to have to choose again. Not yet.” He grabs Frank and holds on tight.

The ‘again’ rings clear as a bell throughout the shop.

Well, fuck. Mikey's look makes sense now.

Frank looks distressed at Gerard’s confession. He puts his arms around Gerard. “Hey,” he whispers, mouth just a couple inches from Gerard’s. “I’m not going to make you choose, okay? Never.” He raises his voice and half turns his head. “We can get along. Right, Mikey?”

“Hmm-hmm. Cross my heart,” Mikey says solemnly.

Gerard smiles weakly at that.

“We’ll be best friends,” Frank goes on, and Tommy sees him playing with Gerard’s hair, “and we’ll drive you crazy and force you to shower at least a few times a week and make sure you don’t try to live on coffee and cigarettes. ‘Cause that’s not healthy, Gee.”

“Okay,” Gerard says quietly, and finally he doesn’t look so miserable.

Tommy thinks it's a combination of Frank's reassuring words and how he's looking at Gerard like he's the sun and the moon and the only thing in Frank's world. It'd be sweet, if it weren’t so sappy.

“I kinda love you, you know?” Frank says, smiling shyly and shrugging one shoulder, and wow, Frank's really upping the sap quotient today.

“I love you, too,” Gerard says, face lighting up like he won a gallon of free coffee or something, and he kisses Frank eagerly.

Tommy exchanges a knowing, long-suffering look with Mikey (he has a feeling that they're going to get along fine) and waits for Frank and Gerard to finish sucking each other's faces off as a vow of their newly declared love. He starts tapping his foot when their hands get in on the action (Tommy didn’t miss Frank’s hand sneaking up the back of Gerard’s shirt right there) and it’s becoming clear that they’re not going to stop kissing without outside interference.

“Well,” Tommy says loudly, “this has been properly sweet and vomit-inducing for me, and I think I shed a tear there, really great performance guys, but that’s enough. We are at work.”

Tommy hears Mikey quietly chuckle, and Frank pulls away from Gerard, whom he has pressed up against the freezer, and flips Tommy the bird over his shoulder while Gerard ducks his head.

“Fuck you, Tommy,” he says, turning around.

“Only if I can fuck you first,” Tommy quips, smirking, and that effectively gets rid of the last bit of tension in the shop.

Gerard's blushing, Frank's smug, and Mikey's half-smiling. Looks like everything's back to normal.

Tommy heaves a sigh of relief. Fucking finally.

There's only one thing left to do after all that. “Now, I don’t know about you all, but I need some fucking ice cream. And coffee,” he adds before Gerard can open his mouth.

“Ice cream!” Frank exclaims. “We just got coffee flavor in, Gee. You should try it.”

Tommy’s unsurprised to see Gerard’s eyes light up at ‘coffee-flavor.’ Tommy’s sure he fucking _bleeds_ coffee.

Gerard wraps Frank up in his arms and peers into the freezer. “It tastes like coffee?”

“Yeah,” Frank says. “It’s good.”

Frank walks them both around to the other side without them having to let go of each other and opens the freezer up one-handed (the other firmly around Gerard’s waist), quickly scooping out three big scoops of the ice cream and putting them in a bowl.

“We can share,” Frank says and Gerard gives him a shy smile, his eyes flashing big hearts at Frank.

Tommy groans quietly. Frank’s gonna be even more insufferable now. Tommy’s gonna _die_. At this rate, a wedding’s probably not far off.

Tommy’s _not_ wearing a dress. Well, probably not. It depends. He and Adam could have some fun with that.

But that’s beside the point. The point is Tommy’s never going to get any peace.

“Hey,” Mikey says, bumping Tommy’s shoulder with his own, and Tommy looks up at him. “It’s not so bad.”

Tommy stares at him. “Yeah, who do you think you are you fucking kidding? Do you _see_ them?”

They both look over to the side, watching Frank and Gerard sitting at a small table, leaning toward each other, eyes locked as they eat the ice cream, totally focused on each other and oblivious to Mikey and Tommy.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Mikey agrees after a moment. “We’re fucked.”

They really are.

Tommy sighs.

“Hmm,” Gerard moans, closing his eyes. “This is really good, Frankie.”

“It really is,” Frank says, and Tommy knows he’s not talking about the ice cream because he’s not even eating any, too busy looking at Gerard like he wants to eat and enjoy _him_ like Gerard’s eating and enjoying the ice cream.

At the sight, Tommy has to amend his previous assertion: he and Mikey are _really_ fucked. He sighs again, putting all the self-pity and woe-is-me inflection as he can into it.

Mikey just laughs and pats his head, completely unsympathetic to Tommy’s pain, but he’ll see the truth before long and then Tommy’ll be the one laughing.

“Can I have some ice cream now?” Mikey asks.

Tommy sighs for the third time in the past five minutes (he’s been sighing a lot lately, he’s noticed). “What flavor?”

“Coffee.” Mikey sounds amused.

Tommy’s not even surprised. Of _course_ he wants coffee flavor; he’s probably as big a coffee fiend as Gerard.

Fuck them all. Tommy really needs a vacation.

 

 **SEQUEL:** [Tofu Sandwiches Are Delicious](http://archiveofourown.org/works/369184)


End file.
